CHAPTER EIGHT: BILLIONAIRE’S WILL-BE WIFE

IRIS

“I think you should accept his offer,” Megan blurted.

I paused, a forkful of spaghetti halfway to my mouth. Slowly, I dropped it back onto the plate, taking my time to shoot her a glare.

Either Megan was oblivious to my glare or she just didn’t care, but she didn't stop eating.

“What?”

She looked at me then, shrugging, her eyes slightly wide. “I think you should marry him—”

“Megan…”

“Hold up,” she cut me short. “I’m not done. He’s paying you what? A hundred million? I’m just saying, you can ask him to double it. Milk him for what he’s got. That is a lot of money, Iris.”

“I’m not marrying my daughter’s father, Megan. And to think it’s all just for what? Revenge? This is a marriage we’re talking about. Marriage to my ex-husband’s ‘brother’. I want nothing to do with that family.”

I told Maverick that I was going to think about it, which I had been doing in the last three days since I got back, weighing the pros and the cons. Because as much as I wanted revenge, I couldn't go on with that plan at the expense of my family. My daughter.

Megan heaved a sigh. “Listen, I understand your concerns, I really do. I mean, your ex more than pushed the boundaries and I’m going to strangle him if I ever see him, but you said Maverick isn’t like him, right? That they’re estranged.”

“But—”

“You need the money, babe. You know you do.” She looked around our small apartment, emphasizing her point.

I did need the money. But I just couldn't do it.

“I don’t even know how long the marriage is supposed to last. We didn't get that far.”

Maverick said he was going to provide me with further details the moment I agreed to sign the contract. I was basically in the dark. All I knew was that he hated his father and brother and wanted revenge.

Why? No fucking clue.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?” she stared pointedly at my phone which was on the table. “Text him back. Hear what he has to say and if you can’t fuck with it, that’s completely fine. You can back off. But you need this. And I know you. You want your ex to pay for all he did to you, and this Maverick guy, he shares your interests.”

She pointed her fork at me. “Go for it, babe. Whatever you decide to do, I’m here for you.”

Warmth filled my chest at Megan’s words. She had been there for me in ways no one else had, and we’d only met for the first time two years ago, the very same day I found out I was pregnant.

My eyes darted to my phone. I picked it up, opening my text messages. The message from Maverick two nights ago stared back at me:

‘Let me know when you’re ready to talk, Iris.’

‘Tonight,’ I replied.

*•*•*•*•*•*

Three hours later, I was walking into the restaurant that Maverick had picked. I would’ve preferred a smaller and less expensive restaurant, and I made sure to communicate that to him, but he was persistent.

So persistent.

It was a miracle that he didn't push when I asked him not to pick me up.

Though the lights were a little dim, I could see Maverick sitting at the far right of the restaurant. He was staring intently at something on his phone.

As I approached, I started to feel a little self-conscious in my dress. It was a long, fitted, black open-back dress with a halter neck. Megan insisted that I wear it. Left to my own devices, I would've pulled up in my jeans.

In her words, “You’re a billionaire’s will-be wife. You have to look the part.”

Maverick spotted me as I got closer, his grey eyes widening slightly as they took me in. He stood up immediately, pulling out the seat across from him for me.

“Iris,” he said. “You look…”

“This isn’t a date, Maverick.” I cut him short, taking my seat. “You don’t have to compliment me.”

He shook his head, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Okay,” he replied as he took his seat.

Maverick was dressed impeccably in a black suit. I didn't think I’d ever seen him dressed in casual clothes before, well, except on that night.

A waiter approached before either of us could say anything else. Maverick ordered a whiskey, neat. I just asked for water. I wasn't in the mood to drink—not with the weight of this conversation pressing down on me.

He sat back, studying me with that unreadable expression of his. “So,” he said, “I assume you’ve thought about my offer.”

I took a deep breath. “Yes. But before anything else, I need to know exactly what you want from me.”

He tilted his head slightly. “I thought I was clear.”

“You weren’t,” I shot back. “You asked me to marry you, threw a ridiculous amount of money on the table, and expected me to just go along with it. That’s not how this is gonna work, Maverick. If you want me to even consider this, I need full transparency.”

His lips twitched. He was amused. “Alright,” he said. “Let's lay everything out, then.”

Folding my arms, I scowled at him. “Start with the basics. How long is this supposed to last?”

“One year.”

That made me pause. That was what I was expecting, but to hear him say it still took me aback.

“And after that?”

He shrugged. “We part ways. You’ll be compensated, your financial troubles will disappear, and you’ll have made Sebastian miserable in the process.”

I scoffed. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is simple,” his voice was calm. “Well, unless we let our emotions get in the way, I mean.”

I ignored that dog, even though I felt a shiver run down my spine. This was business. And if I was going to agree to do this, no emotions would be involved. “And what do you get out of this? You can’t expect me to believe you just want to piss Sebastian and your father off.”

Maverick leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table. “I need to be married, Iris.”

I frowned. “Why?”

“That’s not important.”

My jaw ticked and my annoyance rolled off me in waves. I was done with him being so damn cryptic.

“Maverick, I swear to god. If you don’t tell me right now what all this is about, you can shove this deal up your ass.” I made a point of grabbing my purse and preparing to leave.

“Wait,” he said.

I paused, looking at him. I studied the way he linked his fingers together, his jaw clenching so hard his teeth must have hurt.

And then he exhaled, slowly. “Okay, I’ll tell you.”